The Married Life of Mary Poppins
by Darling Pretty
Summary: In which Mary Poppins marries the love of her life and works for her happily ever after. Mary and Bert.
1. In Which Mary Has a Surprise

**Hi! Look, yet _another _story I shouldn't be starting. I blame finals week; it sends my creative juices into overdrive as I try to procrastinate. (I _promise _I'm working on the My Fair Lady crossover too! It's just a bit of a challenge and I really need to focus to write it.)**

**Anyways, moving on, I pretty much have this entire story written (surprise, surprise, it was supposed to be a oneshot). Some scenes are based on The Dick Van Dyke Show because I love it and the Petries rather strike me as having the sort of marriage Mary and Bert might have.**

**Oh, and if you've read Lee Davies Mary Poppins story (which you totally should), you'll know what I mean by this... This first chapter has a mascara warning of at least a 3, in my humble opinion. (But it's the only one!)**

**And I'd like to take a second to dedicate this story to two amazing people. 1) Kelly, since her plea for romantic fluff gave me the push to finally publish it (this has been in the works for weeks now). And 2) Loes, because she's the Julie to my Carol and I love her to bits. _To __bits_. (That was a Mary Poppins reference and you should at least smile at my horrible humor.) Also, she has ridiculously inappropriate conversations with me about Mary and Bert. Oh, and the color red.**

**Oh, look. Even after this ridiculously long author's note, I still own absolutely nothing.**

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><p>He notes the change in the wind and grins. It won't be long now. Won't be long at all.<p>

The walk home seems incredibly long. He keeps his eyes to the sky, searching for that familiar silhouette.

"Looking for someone?"

He whips around, a grin already forming on his face, even before he sees those blue eyes. It's been almost two months since he's seen her. "Well, 'ello there, Mary! As a matter of fact, I _was_."

"It wouldn't happen to be me, would it?"

He glances at his watch. "'Ere, Mary, I'm in a bit of a 'urry. I need to get 'ome. Join me and I'll tell ya 'oo I was looking for?"

"I'd be delighted."

He picks up her carpetbag from where she'd set it and offers his arm. She takes it and they begin to stroll. No one says anything until they come to the house—a small place with a fence around the yard. "Won't you come in?"

She nods, a slight smile playing on her lips. They continue up the walk and into the house. "You know," she mentions as they stand on the porch while he opens the door, "you never did tell me who you were looking for."

The door swings open and they enter. She closes the door, he drops her carpetbag. Within seconds, she's in his arms. "As a matter of fact," he says, pulling her close enough that their noses brush, "I was looking for a be-a-u-tiful woman, brown 'air and blue eyes who I 'aven't seen in two months. I've 'eard 'er described as practically perfect, but I'm not sure that's good enough for 'er. I mean, she can _fly_."

"Oh, she sounds wonderful. Did you find her?"

"You know, funniest thing. _She _found _me_."

"You're lucky to have her! And what do you call such a superwoman?"

He grins. "My _wife_," he replies and finally captures her lips with his. "Welcome home, Mrs. Alfred. I'm 'appy to 'ave you back. I can't tell you 'ow much."

She smiles back and wraps her arms around his neck. "Fine then," she giggles, giving him a cheeky wink. "Show me."

0ooo0

The sweeps sometimes ask him how he manages being married to a woman gone more than half the year, even if her name is Mary Poppins. He always just smiles and reminds them that you don't choose who you fall in love with.

But he knows the real reason he puts up with her absences, aside from the fact that he loves her—he's the only one to ever see her wake up. Any man lucky enough to watch Mary Poppins wake up would never give that opportunity up.

She sleeps on her side, curled up, her lips just barely parted. He always can tell when she's about to wake up because her toes will curl when she starts to stretch her legs out. Her eyes stay close but she automatically seeks the warmth of his body and scoots closer to him, her mind clinging to the last shred of sleep. When she's on the job, she's always up long before her charges and it takes her mere seconds to get out of bed. But at home, she lingers there, choosing to wake up slowly and, most importantly, in his arms.

She has been home for two days now. This is the second time he's woken up and found that her side of the bed is already cold. She's kind enough to leave her carpetbag in plain sight so that he knows she's still here, but he doesn't like it.

It goes beyond the sudden avoidance of his embrace in the morning. In the time since she last stayed in the house, her temper seems to have gotten shorter, her voice quieter, her smile rarer. It makes him nervous. Everything will be fine when all of a sudden she'll shirk out of his arms and disappear. He's afraid that he feels her putting up a wall between them—a wall that he spent years of friendship pulling down slowly and carefully, brick by brick.

He knows that he's not supposed to push her, that she trusts him to leave her be. He can't let this go though. He's worried about their marriage; more importantly, he's worried about her.

He goes downstairs and finds her in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. "Mary," he says, his mind made up.

"Good morning, Bert."

"Morning. I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

"Certainly."

"Mary, you're my wife," he starts.

"That sounds about right," she smiles.

"An'- an' I'm your husband."

"Well, given the way we passed the night, I should certainly hope so!" she laughs.

"We're married…"

"Yes, that_ is_ the label generally afforded husbands and wives."

"Mary, what I'm trying to say 'ere is you should… you can talk to me, you know that, right?"

She looks shocked that he even has to mention it. "Of course!"

"But there's something you're not telling me!"

"Bert, I'm certain that I have no idea-" She breaks off suddenly, her face turning pale. Her eyes widen in alarm and she rushes for their washroom.

He follows, his face filling with worry when he finds her vomiting into the toilet. "Mary, are you sick?"

She stands up, wiping her mouth daintily and filling a glass with water to rinse her mouth. "I… I didn't want to tell you," she says slowly. "Not until I was sure that everything was going to be alright. But-"

"Mary-" He reaches out for her, certain she's going to tell him she's dying.

"No, Bert, it's not what you're thinking," she cuts him off quickly. "At all. I'm… That is… Bert, we're going to be parents. I'm pregnant. About two months along, I should think."

He blinks, trying to process her sentence. Individually he understands each word, but the sentence feels entirely beyond his comprehension.

"Bert? Are you… please say something."

A grin slowly spreads across his face. "Mary, that's… that's amazing!" He can't but help pull her into his arms.

"Do you… do you really mean it?"

His eyes widen in disbelief. "Of course I do! Mary, I've never meant anything so much in me 'ole life!" He uses his grip around her waist to pull her in as close as possible and kiss her soundly. "I love you an' as long as you're safe an' 'appy about it, this is the best day of my 'ole life!"

She laughs, relief coloring the happiness. "I had hoped you'd say that."

"Of course I would, Mary! We're married, aren't we? I promised you before God an' everyone to love you an' support you forever an'-"

"Bert, if you have a point, I do wish you'd make it."

"Starting a family with you… it's the only thing I want!"

She sighs. "You understand that things won't change, don't you?"

"What d'you mean? Of course they'll change!"

She rolls her eyes to the ceiling. "A child changes everything. I know that. But at the same time, I'll still be a nanny, Bert. We can't afford to lose an income and I can't afford to give that part of me up."

"Well, 'oo asked you to? We'll figure it out, Mary. We always do. I love you an' you love me an' that'll be enough to get us through."

She swallows the lump in her throat and leans in to peck him on the lips. "I love you," she says with a smile. "Now what would you like for breakfast?"

He pushes her to sit. "No, no, you an' the baby rest. _I'll _make breakfast."

"Bert, I am perfectly capable of-" He just gives her a pointed look. She sighs and sits down. "Fine, I'll just… sit."

He grins and pecks her lips. "That's m' girl!"

Mary sighs. As much as she loves and appreciates her husband, this is going to be a long pregnancy.

0ooo0

"Bert, stop it," Mary snaps. "You're behaving childishly."

"Well, I'm sorry," he sulks from his post in front of the door, "if I don't feel comfortable with my very pregnant wife flying off to only the 'eavens know where!"

"I'm only six months along," Mary points out. "That's hardly very pregnant. With the right coat, you can hardly even tell!"

"Mary, I don't want you to go."

Her eyes flash. "Well, that's unfortunate, but you don't have a choice in the matter. Step aside please."

"No," he refuses stubbornly. "Mary, I don't like the idea of you being off on your own, not with this war on."

Mary rolls her eyes. "I'm not even leaving the city, Bert. I'll still see you on my days off. Now I shan't ask again, please get out of my way."

She can see that she's finally baited him enough, that even his slow temper is starting to ignite. Usually she'd care, but today for some reason she just feels cruel.

"An' what if something 'appens to you, Mary? To you or the baby? What then?"

"Then I'll seek medical attention immediately! You're being ridiculous. Let me go."

"I don't want to."

"Then you're no better than a five-year-old," she snaps. "There is a family out there who needs my help. And you would deny them that help simply because you're worried over nothing? There are other families in this world, Bert, and they are every bit as important as ours!"

"Mary, I _don't want you to go_," he insists.

"And I understand that. But you hold no sway over what I do."

"As your 'usband, I do. An' I want you 'ere."

Tears spring to her eyes. "Why then you're… you're nothing more than a big bully."

Something in his eyes breaks. "Mary-"

"I'm going to leave before one of us says something irreparable. Please move."

He finally steps aside and she sweeps outside, opening her umbrella. Surreptitiously she brushes a tear away and allows the wind to carry her to where she's needed.

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><p><strong>I'll post more soon! But please let me know what you think! I love getting feedback.<strong>

**-Juli-**


	2. In Which Mary Returns

**This one's especially for Loes. Because of many, many conversations we've had.**

**I own nothing.**

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><p>Two days later, Mary all but collapses into a chair. The three children she's working with have finally fallen asleep after what seems like hours of persuasion and Mary is exhausted. She still loves the work, of course, and the children are easy to care for, but running after them all day while pregnant is quite challenging.<p>

But most of all, she misses her husband. Whenever she has a moment of peace, her mind drifts back to her own home and the way she left things. It's ridiculous of her to feel homesick only two days away and in her own city, but that's the only word for how she feels. She hates how she left things with Bert. They almost never fight! And if they do, it's resolved within the day. She would _never _run away from a fight while angry, they've always talked it out—that's a promise they made to each other even before they were married. But she had just been so angry! And she _had _to leave!

She rubs her growing belly with a sigh and feels her son kick. Then she pauses.

There's no way she could possibly know that the child growing inside of her is a boy but she just knows in some deep, hidden place that this is the case.

She makes sure the house is asleep before sneaking out the door and rushing home. In her haste, she forgets her key and has to knock on the door loudly to rouse her husband.

He comes to the door looking quite groggy. "Mary?" he asks quietly, yawning. And then all of a sudden, his brain seems to recognize what is happening and shoots him full of adrenaline. "What's goin' on? Are you alright? Is the baby alright? 'Ere, come in, get out of the cold."

"Bert," she laughs. "Bert, calm down. Everything is _fine_." She grabs his hands and squeezes. "I promise."

"Then what on earth-"

She cuts him off with a kiss. "We're going to have a son," she murmurs against his lips.

"What?"

"A son, Bert."

"But- but 'ow do you know?"

She shrugs. "I just do. Call it motherly intuition."

He picks her up off her feet and twirls her around. "A boy!"

"Bert, I'll thank you to put me down!" she exclaims, but she can't help but chuckle.

He sets her down gently. "Mary, about what I said before. I- I shouldn't 'ave tried to-"

She places a finger on his lips. "No need to apologize. It wasn't your fault. It's just that I'm not accustomed to this, Bert. I've never been responsible to anyone when it comes to my coming and going. I've never had someone who cares about such things. But I do now-"

"That's right you do!" he exclaims. "An' you always 'ave, even if you didn't know it! Mary, I've 'ated every time you've left a family, I've worried an' wondered about when you'd come back! But you always 'ave. I know that. I should 'ave trusted you."

"No, Bert, you're my husband and I didn't act like it. I should have taken your feelings into account. It was selfish and foolish of me."

"Well," he grins. "Maybe we were both a bit foolish."

"Perhaps," she agrees. "But I was the more foolish of the two."

"Oh, come now, Mary."

She smiles gently. "Well, I _was_."

"Alright then, you were," he agrees, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sort of smile.

"You aren't supposed to agree with me!" she exclaims.

He sighs as he has an epiphany. "I'm not going t' win this one, am I?"

She shakes her head no, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I should just give up, shouldn't I?"

Her smile crinkles her nose as she nods.

He pulls her into his arms. "I love you, Mary."

"I love you too, Bert. More than you could possibly ever know."

"Oh, I think I 'ave some idea," he laughs before bending to kiss her. She smiles against his lips but is surprised when he pulls away and kneels down to kiss her stomach. "An' you in there," he grins. "I can't wait to meet you."

"Oh, really now, Bert!" Mary chides, but she has to try incredibly hard to hide just how giddy his words make her. Of course, she's known that he's excited for the baby, but there's something beautiful about this moment.

He stands up. "Shouldn't you be getting back?" he asks.

"Oh, I see how it is," she sniffs. "You _want _me to leave!"

"No, Mary, that's not it at all! It's just…" He trails off when he sees the grin on her face. "You're 'aving way too much fun with this. What's gotten into you tonight?"

She pecks him on the lips. "I'm just happy. But you're right, I should be going. I don't want the children to think I've abandoned them."

"Come 'ome soon, Mary."

"I will. And I'll stay at least until the baby's born, I promise. I love you, Bert."

"I love you too, Mary," he says.

"I'll see you soon," she promises before kissing him one last time and returning to her post.

0ooo0

"Ow!" Mary exclaims. "Bloody-" She stops when she realizes that the words about to pass her lips are _not_ practically perfect.

"Mary, are you alright?" Bert asks, sprinting into the room. "Is it time? Do we need t' go t' the hospital? I'll get the bag!"

Mary laughs and grabs his hands. "Bert. Bert! I accidently slammed the drawer on my thumb. That's all! I'm not in labor."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Bert, I am fairly certain I am not going into labor."

"You're certain?"

"Bert, that's usually the sort of thing a woman knows."

"Right! Right. Sorry. I just don't want to be caught off guard."

Mary smiles gently. "I know, but you're hovering and it's making me paranoid!"

"Sorry!"

"You can stop apologizing. It's rather endearing."

"Well, I'm glad you like it since it isn't likely to stop until we 'ave our boy 'ere with us!"

Mary rubs her belly and grins. "I can't wait for that day. But it's not today, so you can stop worrying."

He kisses her cheek. "Never. Now I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

0ooo0

Mary looks up from the novel she's reading and begins to laugh. "You're not seriously wearing that to bed, are you?" she inquires.

"What? I want t' be ready! You're about ready to burst at any minute!"

Mary closes her book and rubs her temples. "Firstly, thank you for that _beautiful _imagery. Secondly, you can't wear a shirt and trousers to bed, Bert! You won't get _any _sleep!"

"I won't get any sleep as it is!" he points out. "Not when I'm worrying about you all night!"

"Then stop worrying!" she exclaims. "A sleep-deprived husband is of no use to me! And, believe me, we'll lose enough sleep once the baby comes. You should get some while you still can."

He bends to kiss her but meets the cover of her book. "Pajamas," she whispers. "Now."

While he changes, she turns out the light and smiles when he climbs into bed with her. "Bert?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Putting your pajamas on over your clothing is_ not_ the same thing as wearing your pajamas."

"If I don't wear the clothes, then I'm _never _going t' get to sleep!" he exclaims.

She turns her head to look at him. "I'd kiss you, but I'm a bit of a beached whale right now and can't move."

He scoots closer and pecks her on the lips. "Mary, I've never seen you look more beautiful."

"You're just saying that because I'm carrying your child," she accuses him. "And you don't want to sleep on the sofa tonight."

"No, I'm sayin' that because you an' this little one," he explains, placing a hand on her stomach, "are my entire world an' I've never seen you look so beautiful."

She laughs. "Go to sleep, Bert."

"With you gettin' up every five minutes? Not likely."

She gives him a look that could freeze water. He decides to cut his losses and kisses her on the cheek. "G'night, Mary. Sweet dreams."

She shakes her head with a laugh and closes her eyes. "Goodnight, Bert."

0ooo0

"Bert. Bert!" Mary exclaims, shaking her husband awake.

Bert's eyes spring open. "What, what is it?" he asks before he's even really realized that he's not still sleeping. "Are you alright?"

Mary laughs. "I'm fine, but we need to go to the hospital. It's time!"

He springs out of bed. "The bag! Where's the bag! Alright, I'll get the bag, you call for the ambulance!" he directs in a frenzy.

Mary chuckles as she watches him. "Bert, I think you're going to find that you'll have trouble putting your hat on your foot."

He looks down and sees that he is indeed trying to wear his hat as a shoe. "Oh." He looks over to the chair by the door, where Mary's bag has been packed for the past couple weeks, just in case this very thing happened. The bag isn't there. "The bag! Where's the bag?"

"Bert, it's by the front door. You, my love, need to take a couple of deep breaths."

"Why's it by the front door? 'ow'd it get there?"

"I moved it there," she explains. "Now come on, I've called for the ambulance and it should be here at any moment."

"'ow are you so calm, Mary? Aren't you nervous?" he asks, finally managing to get his shoes on the proper feet.

"Oh, I'm terrified," she admits, handing him his coat. "But you seem to be doing enough panicking for the both of us and someone needs to remain level-headed!"

He tries to calm down, but just looks astounded. "Mary, you're the most incredible woman I've ever met," he informs her as the doorbell rings.

"I know that. Oooh!" she groans, wincing and tensing up as her next contraction hits.

He looks terribly worried. "Mary, is there-"

"_The door_, Bert! Get the door!"

"Right!" he exclaims and goes to let the ambulance driver in.

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><p><strong>Hope it's okay. :)<strong>

**-Juli-**


	3. In Which Mary Has a Baby

**So, uh, this is really short, but that's because the next chapter is really long. I hope you enjoy it!**

**I still own nothing.**

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><p>With Mary installed safely in a room, the doctors try to explain to her husband that hospital protocol says he should be out of the delivery room.<p>

Usually Bert is quite willing to compromise, but he's unbending on this.

"Bert," Mary says tiredly, between contractions for now. "You _can _leave. I'll be fine. Really. I know blood makes you uncomfortable."

"No, I'm not going anywhere," he insists. "I'm not leaving you, Mary."

"Sir," one of the nurses speaks up, "it really is hospital policy."

"I'm sorry. I say this with the greatest possible respect, but I won't leave 'er. She's my 'ole entire world an' I won't leave 'er alone in 'ere."

The doctors look hopelessly at each other and then to Mary. "It would serve you well to listen to him," she informs them. "He's impossible when he gets an idea in his head."

The doctors don't look entirely comfortable with the idea, but no one says anything, so Bert takes up his post at the head of the bed and takes Mary's hand. "That was a very pretty speech," she murmurs with a smile. "You didn't have to do that. You could go be like the other fathers and stand in the waiting room."

He kisses her forehead. "Yes, I did. You're everythin' t' me, Mary. I'm not leaving you."

0ooo0

Bert flexes his hand as the pressure releases and he winces. His wife falls back into the pillows, smothering a sob. He smoothes her hair back. "You're almost there, Mary," he promises, not knowing what else to say. In fact, he's feeling a little woozy. Mary was right—he doesn't like the sight of blood at all. But he'd never leave her.

"Oh! Almost there! Of course!" Mary snaps, completely out of breath. "If you think it's so bloody easy, why don't _you _do it?"

This is probably the tamest insult he's heard in the past few hours. But before he can formulate his response, her body tenses up again and she squeezes his hand again. He can see her trying to hold in a scream. That's the worst part of the whole experience for Bert; he can't stand seeing her in pain. Pain that is technically his fault. He'd die before he'd see her in pain and giving birth, he's observed, seems to be far and away the worst pain a person can go through.

"Alright, Mrs. Alfred," the doctor says from the foot of the bed. "Time to push!"

Mary shakes her head no. "I… I can't… I'm so tired."

"Mary," Bert says sternly. "Look't me." She turns tired eyes towards him "I know th' woman I married, an' she doesn't know the word can't. You can do this. Just think, in a little bit, we're goin' to 'ave our son 'ere with us, but you 'ave t' keep goin'."

She knits her brow but nods. He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses it. "I love you, Mary."

0ooo0

"Here you go, Mrs. Alfred," the doctor smiles, handing her the tiny bundle.

"Thank you," she breathes, but her focus is entirely on the infant now in her arms. "Oh, Bert!" she exclaims, studying the wide blue eyes blinking sleepily.

"Look't what you did, Mary," he says, voice full of wonder.

"What _we _did," she corrects. "He's going to have your nose."

"Oh, great!" he says, "Th' other kids are gonna be callin' 'im Big Nose!"

Mary frowns at her husband. "I happen to like your nose."

"Oh, sure, I do too, when it's not blocking out th' sun!"

"Are you saying our son has a big nose?" she challenges.

"Not at all. Just that your nose is so much cuter than mine!"

"_I'm _much cuter than you," Mary retorts. "And, I mean no offense, but our son might be too."

Bert grins and kisses her cheek. "Say that again," he requests.

"Say what again?"

"Our son. I like th' way it sounds coming out of your mouth."

"Our son," Mary repeats, a blissful smile on her face. "Our son who doesn't have a name. I know we talked about Matthew, but that's not it. Not now that I've met him."

"I've always liked th' name Christopher," Bert suggests.

"Christopher Herbert," Mary tries.

"Mary, 'ow many times do I 'ave to tell you, we're not naming 'im after me!"

Mary whips her gaze from her son to glare at her husband. "He is my firstborn son, and I want to name him after someone he can look up to."

"So name 'im after a king or somethin'!" Bert retorts. "I'm not anything special."

Her eyes widen. "Herbert Alfred, you are the kindest, gentlest, most honest man I've met in my life and I'll not hear anything to the contrary."

"Mary, you're seein' me through rose-colored glasses. I'm not as good as you make me out t' be."

There's a flash of fury in her eyes. "Not another disparaging remark about the love of my life, Herbert Alfred, or I swear to the good Lord above that I'll divorce you!"

"Mary-"

"Not another word. I want him to grow up to be every bit the man you are. His name is Christopher Herbert and that is final."

The little boy stirs in Mary's arms, reminding his parents of his presence.

"Please, Bert," she whispers. "This is the only thing I want."

He's never been able to turn her down. "We're naming our daughter after you," he grumbles.

"Bert," she says softly, staring down at the newly christened Christopher.

"Yes?"

"We have a son. We have a _family_."

He grin is so bright that it could probably light the whole of London.

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><p><strong>So the nose jokes come from Dick Van Dyke's own self-conscious joking about his nose. <em>I <em>happen to side with Mary in in this argument because I love his nose.**

**Anyway, I'd love to hear what you thought!**

**-Juli-**


	4. In Which Mary Goes Back To Work

**Sorry this took a bit longer than anticipated. I went to Disneyland and now I just started Spring Quarter. Anyway, I know you don't really care, so how about I let you read?**

**I continue to own nothing.**

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><p>"Christopher Herbert," Mary calls over her shoulder from her place at the stove, "Don't you even <em>think <em>of attempting to climb on that chair."

The four-year-old sheepishly puts the chair away. Mary raises an eyebrow.

"Were you being naughty?" Mary asks.

"No…"

"Really?"

Chris scuffs at the floor with his shoes.

"Christopher Herbert," Mary warns. "What did I tell you about the floor?"

"I don't know."

"We don't scuff it. Now, I believe I asked you a question. Were you or were you not being naughty?"

"Yes, I was… But- but I want a cookie! I'm hungry!"

"Dinner's nearly on the table. Go wash up before your father comes home. We can discuss the possibility of a cookie after dinner."

"But-"

Mary gives him a stern look. "Goats butt, birds fly, and children who don't wash up for dinner shan't have_ any _dessert."

Christopher runs out of the room to do as his mother bids him. Mary sighs and returns to making dinner. She smiles when she hears the door open.

"Mary, you 'ere?" Bert calls.

"Kitchen," she calls back. He finds her and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. "Well, hello," she looks up and smiles.

"'ello," he grins, kissing her neck.

"How was work?" she asks, tilting her head to give him better access and wrinkling her brow as she tries recall what he said as he left that morning. "You were a… screever today?"

"I was goin' to, but then it was perfect kite-flyin' weather, so I did that instead. I 'ave to say, what with that wind, I'm a little surprised you're still 'ere."

She glares at him. "And leave our son unattended? Just to follow the wind's fancy? Really, Bert!"

"But you _will _'ave to leave?" he asks.

She wipes her hands on a dish towel. "Tomorrow, I should think. I've arranged for Mrs. Corry to take Christopher during the day. You can pick him up in the evenings on your way home."

She smiles at him, but she knows it looks faked. This is the first time since Christopher was born that she's leaving and she's terribly anxious about it.

He notices the apprehension in her face. He always does. "'Ere, Mary, don't you worry about a thing. Chris an' I will be just fine. Nothing to worry your 'ead over."

She looks away and studies the floor.

"Come on, don't feel bad! We've always knew it would come. Chris is ready. An' we'll see you on your day off! An' admit it, you've been itchin' t' get out an' do something."

There it is—he's hit on the real source of her guilt. It isn't that she has to leave, so much as that she's looking forward to it. "Bert-" she tries to start, but he cuts her off.

"Mary, I understand it. You've been a picture perfect wife an' mother for the past four years. But you're more'n that."

"Bert, I love being married to you," she tries desperately to explain. "It's everything I've ever wanted. And you must know how much I love Christopher. He's my entire world, but-"

He shuts her up with a kiss. "I've known you for 'ow long now? An' I've known since th' moment I met you that you're meant for so much more'n being somebody's wife. That doesn't change just because it's me you're married to. If I didn't love that about you, if I wanted to change it, I wouldn't love you at all. Don't you worry about me'n Chris. We'll be just fine. You go an' 'elp those kids. They need you."

She swallows a lump in her throat. "So," she says, trying to change the subject. "A kite vendor today?"

"Yep," he replies, wrapping his arms around her waist again. "But right now, I think I'm more interested in being an 'usband."

She laughs and swats him away. "Dinner's almost ready. Go check on your son. Make sure he hasn't fallen into the sink or something."

"You know, you could just snap the table set," he points out as she shirks out of his arms and places silverware on the table.

"And encourage that son of yours? Do you have any idea the sort of mischief he'd get into if he figured out how easily he could make things happen?"

"Oh, so 'e's _my_ son now that we're talking about 'im being mischievous?"

"And where do you think he got it from?"

"I think, personally, 'e takes after 'is mother. She's tricky!"

"I most certainly am not!"

He kisses her cheek. "Yes, you are. I'll go see 'e's washed up," he promises and leaves before she can respond.

She stamps her foot. "I am not tricky!" she calls after him.

His head pops back into the kitchen. "Yes, you are," he grins.

"Yes, you are, Mummy!" Christopher agrees, running into the kitchen. "I'm hungry!"

"Two to one, Mary," Bert laughs. "You're overruled."

"Oh, go wash up," she glares, but her traitorous mouth curves into a smile instead of a frown.

0ooo0

Later that night, Mary sits in the living room, reading a book.

"Mary?" Bert asks, entering the room. "You coming t' bed, love?"

She looks up and smiles. "In a moment," she lies.

He frowns and sits down next to her, but doesn't say anything.

"Really, Bert, I'll just be a minute."

"No, you won't," he replies. "If you don't think I know when you're lying, Mary, you don't know me at all."

She sighs and puts the book in her lap. "Is Christopher sleeping?" She'd said goodnight to her son earlier that evening, before father and son had their customary reading time.

"Like a rock," Bert promises. "Now, why won't you come to bed?"

"I'm just not tired."

"Mary." He gives her a look that says he knows her inside and out, and that he knows she's lying.

She sighs, marks her place in the book and places it on the side table. "If I sleep, then it will be tomorrow and I'll have to leave."

He tugs her into his arms. "'Ere, Mary, what's this? I thought you were excited."

"I was. I _am_. But that doesn't mean that I won't miss you," she admits, resting her head on his chest.

"We'll miss you too, Mary. But this'll be good. You miss 'elping people, I know you do. You shouldn't let the little bit of nerves you 'ave stop you from doin' something you want to do."

She nods.

He brushes her lips against her temple. "Don't stay up too late," he warns.

"I won't."

He gets up and walks to the door before turning around. "But, Mary?"

"Yes?"

"Y'know, sleeping isn't the only thing that can be done in bed…"

"Bert!" she scolds, her eyes widening in shock and her cheeks tinged with red. He shrugs with a charming grin and leaves.

She shakes her head with a laugh, but quietly clicks out the light and follows her husband.

0ooo0

"Chris, come on outside," Bert calls into the house.

"I don't wanna!" Chris yells back.

"Suit yerself," Bert says. "I guess your mum will just 'ave t' deal with th' fact 'er only son doesn't want t' welcome 'er 'ome."

Chris comes running out the door, limbs flailing. "Mummy's coming home?" he asks, colliding into his father's legs.

Bert laughs and bends down to pick up the tyke. "Look there," he says, pointing up towards the sky. Chris' eyes follow his finger and he claps excitedly when he sees the umbrella.

Soon, Mary's feet lightly touch the ground. Chris squirms out of Bert's arms and sprints towards his mother. She barely has time to drop to her knees and open her arms before he hits her at full-force.

Bert's throat closes up and he fights tears watching Chris and his mother reunite. Mary pulls the little boy to her breast, holding him as close as she possibly can. Bert smiles damply when he sees the bright smile on her face and the tears in her eyes.

Finally, she releases her son and pushes him back to arm's length. "My!" she sighs. "Let me get a look at you!"

Chris squirms uncomfortably under her gaze. "I missed you, Mummy," he says.

Bert thinks he catches a tear fall from her eye, but Mary quickly brushes it away. "I missed you too, darling," she replies. "Were you good for you father?"

"Yes," Chris promises. "I was very good! We had pancakes for _dinner_!"

"For dinner!" Mary exclaims with a laugh. "What sort of topsy-turvy world has your father had you living in?"

"A fun one! We drawed pictures!" Chris responds enthusiastically. "But I still missed you! And Daddy did too. Lots and lots."

Mary smiles. "And I missed you both more than you could ever know," she replies. Bert catches her eye and they smile at each other. "Christopher, why don't you go inside and get those pictures? I'll be there in a moment to see them."

"But-"

"No buts," Mary smiles. "Now, spit spot!"

Christopher sprints off and Mary stands again. She takes a couple of steps towards her husband, but he meets her halfway and sweeps her into his embrace, kissing her passionately. She returns the kiss with equal fervor and wraps her arms around his neck. It's a long moment before they realize that they're still standing in the front yard of their house.

Mary blushes lightly. "If I'd have known _that's _the kind of greeting I'd get, I'd have left ages ago!"

He takes her face between his hands and looks at her seriously. "Don't even joke about that," he demands. "It's not funny at all."

She sobers up quickly. "You're right. I'm sorry. I've missed you terribly."

He grins. "Welcome 'ome, Mrs. Alfred."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you liked it!<strong>

**-Juli-**


	5. In Which Mary Has Another Surprise

**Um, I have to warn you, this chapter kind of got away from me. Not what I had planned at all. And, uh, you may want some sharp objects to throw at me after you read it.**

**Still own nothing.**

* * *

><p>Bert and Chris meeting Mary as she comes home sort of becomes a ritual. No matter how many times she leaves, coming back is just as much of a reunion as the first time she left, especially for Mary and Bert. Chris has basically accepted this new reality and moved on, but it's horrible for Mary to be separated from Bert and their son for too long. It feels like there's a piece of her soul missing. So once Chris has said his hellos and gone back inside, Mary and Bert say theirs. And their hellos always leave them a bit breathless.<p>

She pulls away from her husband and bends to pick up her carpet bag. "Come inside. I have something to show you."

"What is it?" he asks. "Is it good?"

Mary laughs. "Wait and see!"

"Just tell me if it's good!" Bert begs.

"Herbert Alfred, you are worse than a five-year-old!" she chides as they walk inside.

"Maybe, but you married me!" he exclaims.

She smiles softly. "That I did."

"C'mon, Mary, what is it?"

She walks into their bedroom, takes her hat off, sets her bag down on a chair and places her umbrella back in the stand. Then she turns to face her husband. She nods towards a chair in the corner and immediately he sits down. Without saying anything, she turns so that he's viewing her profile and tugs at her skirt so it's taut and fitted against her body. When she does so, she reveals a slight swell to her frame that would be hidden by her skirts normally.

Bert's eyes become round. "Mary, are you…"

She smiles softly. "How do you think Christopher is going to feel about being an older brother?"

Bert springs out of his chair and sweeps her into a hug. "Mary, that's incredible!"

She laughs. "I thought so. Now, I've been thinking, there are things we really should talk about, so we can avoid either of us storming out of the house in anger this time."

Bert nods seriously but he can't keep a grin off his face. "I'd be 'appy to talk about that, but right now I just need a moment to be 'appy about this!"

He bends and kisses her soundly.

"Oh, ick!" Bert and Mary both turn to the door to find Chris making a face and they laugh.

"Chris, come 'ere, m'boy," Bert says, gesturing to his son. "Your mum an' I 'ave something t' tell you!"

"What is it?" Chris asks warily.

Bert picks him up and they sit on the bed. Mary sits down beside them. "'ow would you feel," Bert asks, "if you 'ad a little brother or sister?"

Chris' eyes widen. "Where would they sleep? Will I have to give up my room?" he asks worriedly.

"No, nothing like that," Mary laughs.

Bert ruffles his son's curly brown hair. "You may 'ave t' share your room though. But you're good at sharing, aren't you, Chris, m'boy?"

"I like sharing!" Chris exclaims. "But where are we going to get them? Is there a store? Do we get to pick them out like a new toy?"

Mary chuckles again. "No, Chris, that's not quite how it works," she says.

"See, the baby's in your mum's tummy," Bert explains.

Chris looks at his parents doubtfully. "In _there_?" he asks, poking Mary's stomach.

"Gently!" Bert cries out, reaching for the six-year-old's hand. "Yes, your baby sister is in there, but that means we 'ave to be extra careful around your mum, okay? The baby's fragile an' we don't want t' 'urt her."

"Oh!" Chris exclaims. "Sorry, Mummy."

Mary smiles. "That's quite alright."

Chris very carefully scoots onto her lap and presses his ear to her stomach. "I don't _hear _anything!" he observes. "Are you _sure_ there's a baby in there?"

Mary laughs. "Yes, there's a baby in there," she confirms. "In a few months, you'll be able to feel kicks."

"There's a _people _in your tummy?"Chris asks incredulously.

"A _person_," Mary corrects. "And yes, there is."

"But how did they _get_ there?"Chris asks.

Mary and Bert send panicked looks at each other over the top of their son's head. They have wordless exchange to try and figure out who will be fielding this question.

"Well, uh," Bert says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You see," Mary picks up, "when a man and a woman love each other as much as your daddy and I do, they sometimes decide to have a baby. But the baby has to grow inside the mother's stomach first."

"So you and Daddy made a baby and then put it inside your tummy?" Chris questions.

Mary, to her credit, only flushes slightly. "Exactly."

As he is wont to do, Chris suddenly loses interest in the current topic. "Can I have a cookie?"

Mary smiles and tousles his hair. "Perhaps. We'll see."

"I have to- I have to be strong to be a good big brother!" Chris justifies.

Mary and Bert look at each other and have another wordless conversation. "Alright," Mary agrees. "But just this once."

"Hooray!" Chris cheers and sprints towards the kitchen.

Bert gets up to follow his son, but Mary grabs his hand. "Oh no, you don't," she exclaims, pulling him back down. He looks surprised but doesn't complain. Instead he tries to kiss her, but she pulls away. "You said sister," she points out.

"I did."

"Bert, there is no way you could possibly know we're going to have a girl!"

He pecks her on the cheek. "Call it fatherly intuition. Besides, if I'm remembering correctly, we still 'ave t' name a kid after you."

She glares at him. "It doesn't work that way and you know it," she laughs.

"Maybe not," he grins. "But I still think I'm right." One hand rests gently on her stomach and he kisses her softly. She caresses his cheek as the kiss deepens but then she pulls away.

"Bert, I believe we promised our son a cookie."

"'e can wait," Bert says, pulling her lips back to his.

A crash comes from the general direction of the kitchen. Mary gives her husband a stern look. "He can't wait," she replies. She sighs and gets up, calling, "Christopher? What have you done now?"

"Nothing!" he yells back. "The cookie jar… it just… just fell off the shelf! I didn't touch it! I promise!"

Mary sends an exasperated look at her husband. "Your son has just discovered his magic," she announces.

"Oh no, Mary, in this one, 'e's _your_ son."

0ooo0

"Bert. Bert!"

Bert is shaken out of his slumber by his wife's voice. But it isn't her normal, calm tone or her giddy excited one. No, she's shaking him awake urgently and she sounds more terrified that he's ever heard her. Immediately his eyes spring open. "Mary! What is it?"

She keeps one arm wrapped protectively around her stomach, even as she speaks. "We have to go to the hospital. It's the baby. There's… Something's wrong. I can feel it." Tears fill her eyes and he doesn't know if they are from pain or fear. The baby isn't due for just a few days under two months.

A desperate calm descends on him. There's none of the panicking that accompanied Chris' birth, no running around like a chicken with its head cut off. "'ave you called for an ambulance?" he asks.

She shakes her head no and that's when he understands just how frightened she must be. Mary _always _thinks of everything.

"Right, well, we don't 'ave time t' wait for one now, so I'll 'ave t' drive you." He suddenly is incredibly thankful that he and Mary had managed to scrape up the money for the small vehicle. "Stay 'ere. I'll get Chris up. We can call Uncle Albert from th' 'ospital an' 'ave 'im come get 'im from there."

She nods, her face contorting in pain.

He takes her face in his hands and makes her look at him. "It's goin' t' be alright, Mary."

"That's a pie crust promise," she whispers.

He shakes his head and kisses her softly. "Not this time it isn't. Now I'll be back."

He rushes into Chris' room and tries to keep a lid on the rising panic he feels. With Mary so scared and Chris so young, he knows that someone has to stay calm enough to manage.

He takes a fraction of a second to smile down at his little boy, just barely six years old, looking angelic with his mop of unruly, dark hair and little thumb hovering near his mouth, hugging Walter, the worn stuffed rabbit that had been the Banks' present to him at birth and that Jane had christened, ready to comfort any bad dream. Like the one he's about to enter into, only it isn't a dream.

"Chris. Chris, m'boy," Bert says quietly, shaking his shoulder. Chris grunts and rolls over but makes no move to wake up. "Chris, I need you to wake up. C'mon, bud." Even though he tries to stop it, he hears a desperate edge enter his voice.

Chris' eyes open slowly. "What?" he asks sleepily.

"Bud, we 'ave t' go t' the 'ospital. Your mum, she needs some 'elp with th' baby."

"Mummy's sick?"

"Somethin' like It. I need you to be a big boy an' be brave for me an' your mum. Can you do that?"

Chris nods slowly but his bottom lip trembles and his eyes start to fill with tears.

"Now, now, none of that," Bert scolds gently, even though at the moment he wants nothing more than to break down crying too. "I know it's scary but I need you t' be a brave little man for your mum an' not cry. She's upset enough as it is an' we don't want t' upset 'er even further. But 'ow 'bout, if we can make it t' th' 'ospital without crying, then once your mum's in with th' doctors, we can sit an' 'ave a good cry."

Chris nods again stoically. Bert gathers him into his arms and squeezes tight. "There's a good boy. I'm so proud of you, Chris. Now, get your shoes on while I get your mum into th' car. Stay 'ere until I come back an' get you."

He returns to the bedroom he shares with Mary. She hasn't moved, but she looks even paler. "Alright, Mrs. Alfred," he says, trying to keep his tone steady and light. "Your chariot awaits."

She doesn't respond but he's not surprised. He bends down and picks her up carefully. Even with the added weight from the baby, she isn't too heavy for him to carry easily. He places her gently in the front seat of the car and runs back inside to get Chris, finding his son all ready and waiting for him. Chris climbs into the backseat and Bert starts the car.

"Here, Mummy," Chris says, presenting her with his stuffed animal. "I brought Walter for you."

Mary smiles faintly. "Oh, thank you, pet, but that's alright. You keep him."

"Hugging him makes me feel better when I'm sick! Maybe he can work for you and the baby too!"

Mary carefully takes the stuffed rabbit from him and hugs it close, making sure that Chris can see. "Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you."

By the time they reach the hospital, it's clear that Mary is in excruciating pain. Bert and Chris see that Mary's taken care of and then sit down to wait.

"Daddy?" Chris speaks up.

"Uh-huh?"

"I know I'm s'posed to be brave but I'm scared."

Bert swallows a lump in his throat so he can get his words out. He picks up Chris and sets him on his lap, hugging him close. "Me too, bud. Me too."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you don't hate me too much...<strong>


	6. In Which Mary Comes Home

**I thought you might be interested in finding out what happened after the last chapter, so I typed it up. I hope you enjoy!**

**And, like always, I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>At some point Uncle Albert shows up and takes a sleeping Chris from his father. He murmurs something about calling when Bert knows how Mary is and takes the boy home.<p>

Bert tiredly rubs his eyes, trying to keep tears at bay, wishing that anybody would give him an update.

It seems like an eternity of silence before a doctor comes out and stands before him. At this point Bert is so tired and upset that the man's words blur together, but he gets the gist of what is being said. They had to deliver the baby early. A little girl. She's got a fight ahead of her, but they're doing all they can to give her every advantage. Mary is fine. Bert swallows and asks if he can see her. The seemingly nameless doctor leads him to her room.

Bert has to stop outside of the door and collect himself before going in. The last thing his wife needs is for him to break down crying right now. But she just looks so small and empty lying in the bed, looking out the window. Such a change from just a few days ago.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and enters, walking over and taking her hand. "'ello, love," he says, doing his best to sound cheerful.

She doesn't respond. She doesn't even look away from the window.

"Sounds like we've got t' pick out a girl's name."

"You do it," she whispers. "I can't."

"Mary?" His brow furrows in concern.

"I can't, Bert. I can't do it. Please, just… I can't."

"Mary, love-"

Finally, she snaps her head to look at him, eyes flashing. "Don't. Don't 'Mary, love' me. Don't pretend you aren't angry with me!"

He blinks incredulously. "Mary? Why on earth would I be mad at you?"

Before he can do anything, Mary covers her mouth with the palm of her hand, turns away from him and begins to cry.

"Mary!" he exclaims, immediately sitting down on the bed and pulling her into his arms. Her shoulders shake as she starts to sob. "Mary, love," he comforts her, holding her to his chest, pressing his lips to her hair, rocking her gently. "Shhh, it'll be alrigh'."

"Bert, if she doesn't make it… I can't…"

"She's alive righ' now. She's alive an' fightin' an' if she's anythin' like you, then she'll be jus' fine."

"I'm her _mother_, Bert! I'm supposed to protect her!"

"It's not like y' did this on purpose, love."

"I know that! But I still feel… this is my fault."

"Mary, stop talking nonsense," Bert orders, pulling back to look at her. He tilts her chin up so she looks at him and his tone becomes gentle again. "This isn't your fault. You 'ave t' know that. These things 'appen an' it's nobody's fault. What matters now is that we've got a little girl 'oo needs 'er parents t' believe in 'er. An' that little girl needs a name, so we can call 'er properly."

For the first time during this ordeal, she physically acknowledges him, snuggling into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her eyes droop heavily. "I'm so tired, Bert."

"Get some rest, Mary Mine," he says quietly, kissing the top of her head.

"We're not naming her Mary," she mumbles as she starts to drift off, recalling the argument they've been having since she announced she was pregnant.

"You promised!" he laughs.

"I did no such thing," she denies sleepily. "You're making that up."

"Go to sleep, Mary. We'll talk later."

0ooo0

They finally settle on Elizabeth Marie. After a few false alarms that leave Mary in tears, the little girl surprises doctors with the speed of her recovery. She's still small, but she's growing and soon Mary and Bert are able to take her home.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Chris calls happily when Bert pulls the car into their small driveway. Uncle Albert keeps a hold on the little boy just to make sure that he doesn't go running in front of the vehicle or something.

Bert runs around to the passenger side and opens the door. Mary carefully climbs out, cradling Elizabeth close to her chest. Her husband hovers nearby, where he's spent pretty much all of his time, except when she insists he get some sleep.

"Mummy, Mummy! I wanna see the baby!" Chris explains.

Mary gingerly bends down and tilts Elizabeth towards her son. "This is your sister, Elizabeth."

"Hi, Lizzie-Beth!" Chris greets her. "I'm your brother, Chris."

Elizabeth opens her eyes and Chris grins. "She's looking at me!"

"Oh, is this her?" Uncle Albert exclaims. "She's beautiful, Mary! Just beautiful!"

"Thank you," Mary says gently without looking up from her children.

"Mummy, can I hold her?"

Bert sees Mary tense up; she had been incredibly protective of Chris in the first few months of his life, and she's even more so with Elizabeth. He knows that even now, even though Beth is just fine, she feels responsible. She's loath to let the girl out of her arms, even to him.

"Bud," Bert speaks up, ruffling his son's hair. "'ow 'bout we go inside an' sit down an' maybe then you can 'old 'er, okay?"

"Okay!" Chris agrees cheerfully, running into the house.

Bert wraps his arm around Mary and helps her inside. "I _can _walk, you know!" Mary laughs.

"A man can't want t' 'old 'is wife?"

"Bert, you're treating me as if I'm made of china!"

He pulls her close and presses a kiss to her temple. "You're me 'ole world, love, an' y' gave me a scare. For a moment there, I thought I was goin' t' lose you. Lose th' light of me 'ole life. I know you don't need th' 'elp, but just let me 'old on t' yeh for just a bit more. Let me pretend I can protect you an' this little one." Gently, he brushes his hand over Beth's head while she bats at his hand.

"You won't lose me, Bert. I promise."

"You know as well as I do that that's a pie crust promise, Mary," he says seriously.

"I _promise_," she repeats firmly.

He knows what it costs her to say that. She never makes promises that she knows can't be kept. But he's glad she says it. Giving her a squeeze, he guides her inside.

Christopher sits on the couch next to Uncle Albert. "Mummy, Mummy! You said I could hold her! You promised!"

Mary chuckles and hands Elizabeth to Bert before sitting down next to her son. "You must be very, _very _careful," she warns, wrapping her arms around him and positioning his arms to get him ready.

When she nods, Bert gently passes Elizabeth to Chris, resting her body on his lap. "'ere y' go, bud."

Mary makes sure he supports the infant's head, her own hand cupped carefully over his, just in case.

Bert can't help but smile at the picture as he steps back. His wife chats quietly with Uncle Albert, but her focus is on her two children. Chris is intent on making sure he's holding his baby sister properly and only looks up when Mary leans down and presses a kiss to his mop of curly brown hair, so like his father's. She looks up and smiles at him and Bert is happy to see that she looks more relaxed than she has since Elizabeth's early birth.

0ooo0

That night, Mary and Bert put a sleeping Elizabeth into her bassinet in their room as they prepare for their first night all together in their home. When she's older, Elizabeth will share a room with Chris, but right now, Mary wants her close.

After changing into her nightgown, Mary finds Bert hovering outside of their room. She frowns in confusion. He raises a finger to his lips and gestures at the doorway. Mary peers inside and grins when she sees Chris on his tiptoes, looking at his little sister, unaware of his parents hovering in the doorway.

"Hi, Lizzie-Beth," Chris whispers, or at least he thinks he does. He's never been great at modulating his voice. "I don't know if you 'member me but I'm your big brother, Chris. You're really little. Mummy says that's because you were in a big hurry to come meet us and you forgot you weren't ready to be here. I wish you could have waited just a little bit longer 'cause you scared Mummy and Daddy, but I'm real glad you're here.

You're going to like Mummy and Daddy. Even though Mummy doesn't let us eat cookies before dinner, Daddy sometimes will, but only if we don't tell Mummy. Don't you worry, I'll show you how. Daddy says that's part of being a good big brother. He says I have to protect you. And I will. Promise. I love you very, very much already, Lizzie-Beth. I hope you love me too."

Mary looks up at her husband, her eyes filled with tears. He pulls her close and brushes his lips against her forehead. "We raised a good boy, Mary. A real good boy."

"Takes after his father," Mary agrees, leaning against him.

He chuckles and she can feel the tremor through her body. "Oh, Mary, 'is mother 'ad more'n a little bit t' do with it. An' she'll do it again with our daughter."

She smiles gently and wraps her arms around his waist. "I'm so tired," she murmurs, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Well then, Mrs. Alfred," he says, gently scooping her off her feet. "Per'aps we should get ya t' bed so y' can sleep."

Mary laughs and wraps her arms around his neck.

Chris looks up as his parents enter the room. "I was just saying goodnight to Lizzie," he explains.

"I'm glad t' 'ear it, bud, but your mum, she needs 'er rest an' so does your sister. You'll see 'em in the morning," Bert says, setting his wife on their bed.

Chris runs over and kisses his mother's cheek. "I love you, Mummy, and I'm glad you're back home."

"I'll come in an' read t' you in a few minutes, Chris," Bert promises. "Go get ready for bed."

When Chris runs out of the room, Bert turns back to his wife who is staring at their little girl. "She's perfect, Mary," he whispers.

"Oh, Bert," she frowns. "I'm still _so_ scared."

"I know, love. I know. I am too. But we've got 'er 'ere. We've got 'er 'ome with us, even though they said it might not 'appen. She's a fighter, just like 'er mum."

"I'm not sure I'll ever stop worrying about her," Mary admits. "We came so close to losing her."

"Nor will I, love," Bert says, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "But she's 'ere. She's 'ome. An' we've got t' move past it so we can enjoy what time we've got."

She nods. "You're right of course."

He kisses her softly. "Get some sleep, love. Th' little one'll be awake an' wantin' feedin' soon enough an' you need your rest."

She lies down, thankful to have him so near. "You know," she comments. "The best people don't share a bed. They don't even share a room."

He shakes his head with a chuckle, lying down next to her and pulling her into his arms. "So maybe we're not th' best people. I'm not int'rested in anythin' but wakin' up with you right 'ere with me."

"I love you, Bert."

"An' I love you more'n th' moon, th' stars, an' th' very earth itself."

"And I think you're exaggerating."

"Oh, but I'm not, love," he disagrees, kissing her shoulder.

"You are hopeless."

"An' you're the love of me life," he counters. "Now get some rest. We can 'ave it out over this in th' mornin'."

As Mary drifts off, she listens to the even sounds of her husband's breathing and allows herself to let go of her troubles. As long as she's in his arms, she knows she's safe from harm.


	7. In Which Mary Receives A Gift

**I'm about an hour and a half late, but I want to take a second to dedicate this chapter to the one person I can always count on to support me and love me unconditionally-my own practically perfect mother. **

**And Happy Mother's Day to any of my readers who happen to be mothers!**

**As always, I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>Mary sighs, crinkling her nose as sunlight hits her face. Without opening her eyes, she stretches and reaches for Bert's side of the bed. Her barely conscious mind registers that her husband is missing, but before she can react, she hears a quiet giggle. She opens her eyes just in time to be greeted by her daughter being thrown on top of her, Chris jumping onto the bed right after.<p>

"Attack!" he yells, tickling her stomach.

"Attack!" Beth repeats, her little fingers trying to tickle under her mother's chin.

Mary laughs, sitting up to gather the four-year-old into her arms and pull up her daughter's nightshirt to press a kiss to her belly. Beth screeches with delight.

"You put my baby sister down, you Evil Doctor Villain Mum!" Chris yells, making shooting noises as he pretends to shoot a gun made of his hands.

Normally, Mary would indulge her children's game of make-believe—after all, she's a staunch believer that children need to have the opportunity to play and create—but wouldn't join in. Today though, she just tightens her hold on Beth. "Oh, I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that," she tells Chris. "You'll have to do _much _better than that if you wish to negotiate her safe return."

"What do you want, Evil Doctor Villain Mum?"

Mary's bright blue eyes twinkle. "Oh, I should think a kiss might be a good start."

"Muuuum," Chris groans. Now that he's ten years old, this is practically the only way Mary can get him to kiss her at all.

"Do you or do you not want to see your sister returned to you?" Mary asks, cradling Beth in her lap.

Chris looks at his little sister. "What'd you say, Lizzie-Beth?" Lizzie-Beth is Chris' own particular nickname for the girl. Everyone else calls her Beth.

"Help me, help me!" Beth chortles as Mary tickles her.

Chris scoots forward. "You're just lucky I like ya so much!" he tells Beth, kissing his mother's cheek.

"Alright, you lot, 'op on off your mum," Bert chides as he enters. Mary turns and grins when she sees the tray of food he's carrying. He presses a soft kiss to her temple as he places the tray on her lap. "'appy Mother's Day, Mary."

"Thank you. It looks simply delicious, Bert!"

"It is," he says smugly. "Tasted it m'self."

He leans down to brush his lips against hers. "Oh, ick!" Chris exclaims.

"Ick!" Beth says after him. She idolizes her big brother.

"Come on, Lizzie-Beth," Chris says, shooting his parents a dirty glance. He's already tried to talk to them once about the fact that none of his friends' parents act all gross and icky, like they're perpetual newlyweds, but obviously the lesson hasn't stuck. None of his friends' parents act like they're still in love and sometimes Chris wishes his parents would quit kissing, or at least pretend to sleep in separate rooms! _Anything _so they don't look so happy all the time!

Carefully, Chris lifts his little sister up and off the bed and leads her out of the room. Even though he sometimes makes a big fuss about being too old to hang out with his baby sister, he is the best big brother Mary's ever seen. He had taken Bert's words to heart and sees protecting Beth as his responsibility. Every time she so much as sneezes, Chris is hovering, making sure she's okay and Mary couldn't be happier that her little girl has one more layer of protection between her and the outside world.

Beth has just turned four and Mary knows that she should be starting to prepare to work as a nanny again, but she can't bring herself to be away from her precious baby for that long. It was different with Chris—not because she was any less protective of him, but because she is still so damn paranoid that she might lose Beth. Her daughter isn't frail and is growing up perfectly, but Mary still wants to hold that tiny life as close to her as possible for as long as possible.

As she eats, her husband leans over and places light kisses down her neck, starting from right under her ear. She shirks away, sending him a glare. "I can't eat when you do that."

"I 'ave a surpise for ya," he sings with a smirk. "That was your 'int."

"Judging by _that, _I'd have to guess… you're going to try and make me a mother three times over?"

He laughs. "Not quite, but close."

"Oh."

"Uncle Albert's agreed t' take th' kids for th' night, which means we can spend th' day with 'em an' then you an' me 'ave the 'ole night to ourselves," he explains. "What d'ya think?"

"I think it sounds wonderful," she admits, leaning forward to kiss him again. "Thank you."

He chuckles against her lips. "Y' taste like syrup," he observes. "I should make you breakfast in bed more often!"

"I certainly wouldn't complain."

"'appy Mother's Day, Mary." He kisses her again and steals some food off her plate.

0ooo0

"I don't wanna go!" Beth insists, starting to throw a temper tantrum.

"I don't either!" Chris agrees. They both glare stubbornly at their parents and Uncle Albert.

"It's only one night, my dears!" Uncle Albert points out. "We'll have lots and lots of fun!"

"But…"Beth starts to protest. "But I'll miss Mummy."

Mary hugs the little girl. "Oh, darling, I'll miss you too. But your Uncle Albert is _so _looking forward to spending time with you!"

"Can't we stay with you?" Chris asks.

Bert grins and Mary recognizes the glint of an idea in his eyes. He pulls her up and into his arms. "Bert!" she exclaims in surprise.

"Sure, you lot can stay with us. But I'm just goin' t' be sittin' 'ere all night, tellin' your mum 'ow absolutely stunnin' she looks an' 'ow I love 'er more than anythin'." He takes advantage of the fact that she's still a bit stunned to gently rub his nose against hers, giving her an Eskimo kiss.

"Ew, gross," Chris groans, making a face. "Come on, Lizzie-Beth. Anything's better than that!"

It only takes knowing that Chris is going to make Beth reevaluate her position on the whole issue. Quickly she toddles after Chris and Uncle Albert runs after them.

"That was a stroke of genius," Mary laughs.

"I know," he grins. "An' now, if y' don't mind, this genius would like t' kiss 'is wife."

"Ah, well," Mary sighs, breaking into a smile. "If you must, you must!"

He bends his head to kiss her, pulling away after a minute. "Alright, love, you go relax an' get ready. I've got a surprise t' get ready!"

She watches as he practically dances down the sidewalk and disappears.

0ooo0

"You look… beautiful, Mary," Bert comments, his jaw dropping when he sees the prim, rose-colored dress she's dressed herself in.

Mary smiles softly. "Thank you, Bert." They've been married for over ten years now, but those words still mean just as much as they did the first time they jumped into a chalk drawing. She looks around at the picturesque, rolling hills that surround them. "You've truly outdone yourself. It's wonderful."

"You 'aven't seen nothing yet!" he exclaims, taking her hand and tugging her along. As they walk down a path, she notices that the area is becoming increasingly familiar, culminating in a beautiful gazebo, a perfect replica of the place he had finally asked her to marry him.

"Oh, Bert!" she sighs happily. She can hear a song chiming softly in the distance. "Is that a carousel?"

He grins. "I was thinking of putting this one on paper an' we could bring th' kids 'ere every once in awhile."

"That's a wonderful idea!" she says, clapping her hands together. She can't think of a better place for her children to play.

He tilts her chin up and bends to kiss her. "You've done a marvelous job with 'em, Mary."

"_We've _done a marvelous job," she corrects. "You are an amazing father, Bert."

"Maybe so, but today is Mother's Day. An' there's no one else I'd want my kids t' call Mum. I love you, Mary Mine, an' I will until th' stars fall right out of th' sky."

She reaches up and caresses his cheek. "I love you," she says, repeating his words with a soft smile. "And I will until the stars fall right out of the sky."

"I 'ave somethin' for ya," he announces shyly, reaching into the pocket of his trousers and pulling out a box. She cocks her head with a small frown.

"You didn't need to-"

"Yes, I did, love. You've given me two beautiful children an' I like t' spoil ya so you just need t' let me. Now 'ere, go on, open it. "

Rolling her eyes, she gently opens the box and gasps. Resting on a bed of navy blue velvet is a delicate silver chain and a small, simple locket. The face of the locket is engraved with both Chris' and Elizabeth's birthdays. "Oh, Bert!"

"Open it up."

She does as directed and finds that one side has a picture of a younger Chris holding Elizabeth tightly to his chest, a ridiculous grin on his face. The other is a picture of Bert reading to both his children. "Bert!" she gasps.

"Figured this way, even when you 'ave t' go off an' be away from us, you'll still 'ave us with you. D'ya like it?"

She tips forward and kisses him for all she's worth. "It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. Will you help me with the clasp?"

"Sure thing!" he says happily, brushing the stray hairs away from the back of her neck and fastening the chain around her neck.

"There's just one problem," Mary points out breathlessly as his hands linger.

"An' what's that?" he frowns. He thought this gift was perfect—personal and beautiful.

Looking over her shoulder, she sends him a coy glance. "What happens if we have another child?"

He laughs and turns her so he can kiss her again. "Well then in that case, love, I think I'll just 'ave t' buy ya another locket!"


	8. In Which Mary Might Be Dismissed

**I'm sorry this took me so long to put up! I'm working on it. I think we're coming to the end of this story. Just maybe one or two more chapters and then that's the end. Enjoy!**

**As always, I own nothing.**

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><p>"Alright, now I want you to behave for your father," Mary says sternly, looking at both her children. Chris, who has been through this more times than he can count, just nods and looks bored. Elizabeth, on the other hand, looks extremely worried.<p>

"You _will_ come back, won't you, Mummy?" she asks.

"Elizabeth, please take your thumb out of your mouth," her mother chides gently. "I'll return before can miss me. I promise. Your father and your brother will keep you plenty busy."

"Don't worry, Lizzie," Chris tells his little sister. "It's going to be fun! Besides," he adds, leaning in to whisper in his sister's ear. "Dad's a soft touch."

"Don't you dare take advantage of your father's kindness," Mary warns, "or you'll answer to me."

While the threat of Bert's anger might not be enough to keep the two mischievous children in line, the threat of Mary's is and the two sober up quickly.

Mary kneels down and opens her arms so Chris and Beth can step into them. Chris places a quick peck on her cheek and steps away with a promise to be good. But Beth refuses to let go of her neck.

"Beth, let go," Mary orders, but her daughter just tightens her grip. "Beth, please. Don't make me ask again."

"C'mere, Beth," Bert says, leaning down to pry Beth off of Mary. "Don't make this 'arder than it already is." Even when he's pulled her off, Beth won't stop squirming, reaching for her mother. "Chris, will you take your sister inside?" he requests when he sees that Beth's actions are starting to affect Mary. Chris nods and wrangles his sister into the house.

Mary quietly gathers her things until Bert says her name. She looks up with a small, sad smile. "It shouldn't take me longer than two weeks," she mentions.

"You'll be fine," he reassures her. Their conversation feels stilted and awkward, as it never really has before. Lately, conversations have ended in whispered disagreements or frustrated silences. It was brought on by Bert's birthday, and Mary's seeming lack of one. While Bert certainly ages slower than most, he's still aging faster than she is. And it's become a point of stress as they try to figure out a solution since, as Bert is always quick to point out, it will soon enough appear that three generations live in their house, not just two. It's not something Mary is inclined to talk about and she gets horribly annoyed whenever he brings it up. Increasing the tension, money has been incredibly tight recently as well. The stress of paying bills certainly hasn't made things easier. "Mary, I-"

"I know," she nods.

He kisses her—a sweet, tender kiss that promises his fidelity and love, if not always his patience. "I love you, Mary. Don't y' ever doubt that."

"I don't and never shall. I love you as well, Bert."

"Come 'ome soon, love."

She places another quick kiss on his lips with a smile and promise. "As quickly as I possibly can."

0ooo0

Mary takes a deep breath as she rings the doorbell. Leaving her family had shaken her this time, mostly just because of Beth's strong reaction. She shakes her head. It isn't the time to be focusing on her own family, but instead on the family that needs her help.

The door swings open and Mary is surprised to recognize the face that does it. The woman standing there looks worn and rumpled but it is definitely one of Mary's previous charges. Rebecca. Mary never forgets a name or face.

Apparently, neither does Rebecca. "Mary Poppins?" she asks quietly. "What are you…"

"You're the mother of Dinah and Samuel, correct?" Mary asks, her usual brusque manner a bit shaken by the surprise. The woman hardly looks more than a girl herself. Certainly not old enough to be the mother of two.

"That's correct." Rebecca's hazel eyes fill with confusion.

"And you are in need of a nanny?"

"Er… yes, I suppose so."

"Then it seems rather obvious what I am doing here. Now I'll require every second Tuesday off, as you might recall. It is absolutely essential."

"Er, um, yes."

"Don't stammer, Rebecca. It isn't becoming."

"Well, welcome, I guess."

"Thank you," Mary says curtly, walking past her and into the house. "I'll see the children now."

0ooo0

Three days later and it is quite clear to Mary why she's been summoned. The children are, to put it kindly, terrors. That isn't quite surprising given the appalling lack of supervision she's noticed. It becomes obvious to Mary that this family isn't connected in any way. In fact, after seeing just how young Rebecca and her husband are and how soon Dinah had been born after their marriage, Mary has a sneaking suspicion that it had been a marriage of necessity rather than of choice.

It doesn't help matters that Rebecca seems to be entirely overworked and completely uninterested in even trying to fix her marriage or family. And that frustrates Mary to no end. Rebecca's own parents had fought like cats and dogs and Mary had hoped that the girl wouldn't fall into the same trap, but it seems that hope was for naught.

Sitting in the children's room, she knits as Dinah reads aloud to Simon, listening warily as the sounds of arguing can be heard through the thin walls, only becoming louder as the offenders become angrier. Dinah silently stands up and takes Simon's hand, leading him to his bed and giving him a pillow to cover his ears with before hugging him close. Mary can feel her heart rip in two at the mechanical routine.

"Excuse me," she says to the children, setting aside her knitting and striding out of the room.

Both Rebecca and her husband look up when she enters. "Perhaps you _might _attempt to lower your voices," Mary commands, unable to contain her anger anymore. "You are distracting your children and what's more, you are frightening them."

"But Mary-"

"I wasn't finished, Rebecca, so I will thank you to stay quiet until I am. Both of you are behaving in an incredibly selfish manner. Your children are not deaf nor are they dumb. They can hear every word you are saying and it is upsetting them! I am not suggesting that you never fight, but you might at least try to contain it!"

"Oh, what do you know," Rebecca scoffs, blowing off her old nanny. "You think you know everything, Mary Poppins, but the fact of the matter is that you are a nanny, not a mother and you simply don't know what it's like to be a mother or to be married! In fact, as I recall, you even had Bert wrapped around your little finger but wouldn't give him the time of day. Well, that's your decision but you have to live with it, so stop meddling in _my _life because you don't have a family of your own!"

Mary rides out the tirade in a stony silence. When she does speak, it's in a quiet voice that is even more frightening than her yelling. "Do check your facts before speaking, Rebecca." She unclasps her locket and hands it to the young woman, waiting for her to open it. "I've been married for nearly fifteen years now and my children are eleven and five. I'm not claiming we're perfect, because we most certainly have our own problems, but do not discredit my experience."

Rebecca mutely stares at Mary and quietly hands the locket back. Mary whirls around and storms out of the house. Before long, she's found the park near Cherry Tree Lane, where she knows Bert will be. He frowns in confusion when he sees her since it's Thursday. "Mary?"

She doesn't say anything, just wraps her arms around his waist and tucks herself into his body.

"'ere, Mary, what's this?" he asks, encircling her in his embrace. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm so sorry, Bert," she mumbles, her eyes closed as she rests her head on his shoulder.

"For what?" he laughs. "Everyone knows m' practically perfect wife can do no wrong!"

"For everything. The fighting, the silences, all of it. I'm sorry."

Bert grins. One of the many things he's learned about her over the years is that she only says the words "I'm sorry" when she really, truly means it. "Love, it's alright. We've managed, 'aven't we?"

"Not very well," she replies. "But the thought of you growing old and leaving me absolutely paralyzes me with fear. I can't bear to think of it."

"Oh, Mary," he sighs and pulls her as close to him as possible. "I didn't… Sometimes you're so strong I forget you get scared too. But we don't 'ave t' talk about it now. I'm just 'appy t' see you! Shouldn't you be getting back though? This couldn't 'ave been a scheduled interlude."

She laughs. "Yes, I should. If I haven't been dismissed, that is."

"You'll never be dismissed," he says with certainly.

"Oh, I never claimed that I would _accept _my dismissal," she answers, the sparkle coming back into her eyes. "Just simply that it was a possibility."

She laughs and he takes the opportunity to bend his head down and kiss her. And they both just know that everything is going to be fine.


	9. In Which Mary Makes A Serious Decision

**Look at what I have for you! Just one more chapter to go, I think. MAYBE two. We'll see.**

**As always, I own nothing.**

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><p>Mary returns to sheepish silence. Rebecca and her husband sit in the living room, looking shamed. They both look up when Mary quietly opens the front door.<p>

Mary looks at them both with a raised eyebrow and waits.

Rebecca stands up. "You were right." Her husband nudges her. "And we're sorry."

"I don't believe I'm the one you should be apologizing to," Mary responds, her demeanor still icy.

"We're going to take the children to the park," Rebecca says. "We have to talk to them. Take the rest of the day off, Mary Poppins. I mean, if you'd like."

Mary smiles and nods. "As you wish. I'll see the children into their coats."

Once the family is off, Mary sits in the nursery, looking around, unsure of what to do with this sudden time off. She's just seen Bert, and though she wants nothing more than to see her children, after the scene Beth caused as she left, Mary has a feeling that seeing her for only a few hours will serve to make everything worse for the little girl.

And then she realizes that she has something important to do, to research. Quickly she locks up the house and calls for a cab to take her across the city. When she arrives at her destination, she takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

"Mary, my dear!" Uncle Albert exclaims happily. "Come in, come in!"

She smiles and allows him to take her coat and umbrella. "Uncle Albert, I'm afraid I have a favor to ask of you."

"Certainly, my dear, certainly! Anything t' 'elp you."

"It isn't a particularly pleasant favor, but it's something I must ask."

He frowns. "Well, this sounds serious. Come in, my dear, sit down."

They move to the sitting room and Mary sits primly in an overstuffed chair. "As you know, our family has been… _blessed_ with a certain, shall we say, longevity that most aren't." The way she says the word blessed very clearly gives it the opposite meaning.

"Ah, the immortality problem."

"Uncle Albert, I can't… I _won't _face a life without Bert, without my children. I have to find a solution. I _need_ to." While she had started her explanation strong, she ends emotionally and can feel tears burning behind her eyes.

His eyes become sad. "Mary, you do realize what you're asking me, don't you?"

"What's the point of living forever, if nearly everything I hold dear is gone? Chris and Beth have Bert's blood in them; they may live longer than most, but they most certainly will eventually pass on. And where will I be then? Stuck playing nanny to my great-great-grandchildren? I will _not _bury my children, Uncle Albert, and I will not live without my husband."

"You're sure about this, Mary? Absolutely positive?"

"More certain than I have ever been about anything."

"Have you talked to Bert about it?"

She shakes her head. "No, and he most certainly doesn't need to know until it's over. Bert is overly sentimental; he'll be upset by the thought."

"Mary, what you're asking, it's no easy feat. It will require great sacrifice and a great amount of magic. To break through the bond of time, you will have to all but relinquish your magic. Are you prepared to make that sacrifice?"

"Yes."

He smiles kindly, his eyes still sad. "Go home and talk to Bert. This isn't a decision to be made lightly, certainly not without your husband."

Mary sighs in frustration. "Uncle Albert-"

"_No_, Mary," he insists. "I won't help you with this unless your family is onboard. You're going to need care in those first few days and I will not spring that on Bert. He's a good man. He'll listen to you; you just need to communicate."

She finally consents when it becomes clear that her uncle is going to stubbornly refuse unless she does as he asks.

He hugs her as she prepares to leave. "Uncle Albert!" she exclaims when she realize he's crying.

"You've turned into such a wonderful, brave woman, Mary, and I'm proud to call you my family," he sniffs.

She smiles and kisses the old man on his cheek, wiping off the lipstick that's left there. "I love you too, Uncle Albert," she says quietly. She collects her things and leaves before he can respond.

0ooo0

"Bert, we _have _to talk about this!" Mary hisses, following her husband into the kitchen. Chris and Beth are soundly sleeping in their beds and she doesn't want to wake them.

"No, Mary, we don't," he snaps. "We don't because you're not doing it."

"_Yes_, I _am_," she insists. He glares at her. "You aren't thinking rationally about this!" she insists.

"_I'm _not thinking rationally?" he laughs bitterly. "Says th' woman 'oo's thinking of giving up somethin' so precious an' dear in a fit of emotion! An' I'm the one not being rational?"

"Is this about my magic?"

"Of course it is, Mary! What are you going t' do without it? You've never been without it!"

"I'll still be able to do small things! Bert, this isn't about my magic!"

"It's not something you can just take back, love! It's permanent. What if you decide you're miserable an' want your magic back?"

"Why does that upset you so much?"

"Because it's a huge part of 'oo you are, Mary! I don't want you to regret it!"

"It seems the only one who might regret it is you." She looks down and whispers, "Is that why you love me? My magic?"

His face falls as he realizes how his vehemence might seem to her. "Of course not!" he insist, tugging her into a tight embrace. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and tilts her chin so she has to look at him. "Mary, you're th' love of m' life, with or without magic. I fell in love with you, not your magic, an' I keep falling more in love every day. But the thought of losin' you at all, 's terrifying t' me."

"Then think of what you're asking of me!" she cries. "You are asking me to resign myself to an eternity without you, without Chris and Beth. How can you ask of me what you admit is terrifying?"

In response, he just tightens his grip on her.

She feels the pinpricks of tears start behind her eyes again as she hides her face in his shirt. "Please don't ask that of me," she begs, her voice muffled. "Don't make me live without you."

He kisses the top of her head. "You're right, love. You're right. We'll go t' Uncle Albert's tomorrow, alright?"

Mary sighs and looks up. "Oh, thank you, Bert."

He bends his head and kisses her. "I love you, Mary. An' I always will. Now come on, let's get some sleep. It's been far too long since I got t' 'ave you sleep next t' me."


	10. In Which Mary Gets Happily Ever After

**Not my strongest, I'll admit, but I did just start school. I can't believe this is the end! Crazy. Absolutely crazy.**

**As always, I own nothing.**

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><p>"Daddy?"<p>

Bert looks up from the tray he's preparing. "Yes, Beth?" he asks his daughter.

"When is Mum going to get better?"

He sighs, his lips drawing into a thin line. "Y'know, Beth, I can't tell y' that exactly. Your mum's doin' 'er best, but we 'ave t' be patient."

It's been four days since Bert and Mary visited Uncle Albert. Though Bert still hadn't been thrilled, it was her decision to make and he had promised to stand by her no matter what. The whole process, once Uncle Albert had completely made sure that this was what Mary wanted, hadn't taken long, hadn't even been complicated. Albert had taken Bert aside before, warning him that though everyone has a different response to the loss of immortality, these first few days were going to be, for lack of a better term, hell as Mary's body learned to handle a life with substantially less magic. She had been just fine, if a little tired, long enough for him to get her home, just in time. He's thankful they sent the kids to Mrs. Corry for the day because the moment they step through the door, Mary had stumbled and collapsed into his arms, complaining that the room had started to spin. He hurried her to bed and ever since then she's stayed there, fighting off a bad fever now that her body has to fight it without magic to help. He can only hope that once she comes through it, he will never see her so ill again.

"I wish she'd get better," Beth comments. "Nothing's fun without her."

Bert pulls his daughter into his arms. "I know, Beth, I know. Me too. But y' know she's doin' 'er best. She'd never let you an' your brother alone like this if she could 'elp it. Be patient, love. We all 'ave t' be. Now go play with your brother."

Beth leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "Love you, Daddy," she says offhandedly before scampering off to find Chris.

He smiles, noting that she's skinned her elbow, probably hanging around her brother. Chris can get a little rough when he forgets how much smaller his little sister is. Mary tends to laugh and remind him to be careful, but Bert will watch them vigilantly, ready to leap in the moment Elizabeth gets hurt. His wife teases him for being so ridiculously overprotective, but he would do anything to keep his little girl safe.

With that same smile on his face, Bert gathers up the tray and goes into the bedroom he shares with his wife. "Mary," he whispers, trying to see if she's awake.

Bert heaves a sigh when he sees her and puts down the tray again. Mary has kicked all the sheets off the bed; she's covered in nothing more than her nightgown that is clinging to the thin layer of sweat on her skin. Her hair is plastered to the sides of her face and she's thrashing around; instantly he recognizes that she's having a nightmare. He takes a rag and dips it into a pitcher of cool water he's placed on the nightstand for this purpose.

He sits on the side of the bed and lays the wet rag across her forehead; she stops tossing and turning, so he dips the rag again, pressing it under her jaw and to her wrists, trying to cool the blood running through her body.

She lets out a small whimper and it breaks Bert's heart. He'd give anything not to see her like this. The pitcher nearly falls to the ground when he dips the rag once more in a hurry, not bothering to squeeze it out. He pulls her into his arms and puts the cloth back on her forehead. "Shh, Mary, shh," he comforts her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "'s all right. I'm 'ere. I'm right 'ere."

After a few moments, her eyes flutter open. "Bert?" she coughs.

"Mary!" he nearly yells and she winces. "Sorry. 's just… you're awake!"

"Have I been asleep long?" Her voice is weak and terribly nasally.

"On an' off," he answers casually. "Three days."

Mary's eyes spring open and she tries to get out of bed. "Chris and Beth must be-"

He closes his arms around her waist and pulls her back against him. "They're just fine."

"But-"

"Mary, you're _sick_. I know y' don't understand this, but y' _need _your rest."

"Bert, I have to-" She's cut off by a coughing fit. He just gives her a pointed look and she collapses back against his chest. "Is it going to be like this every time I get sick?"

"No," he promises. "This is pretty bad."

"This is miserable."

"'ere, have some soup," he directs, getting up and grabbing the tray he brought in.

"I'm not hungry," she says.

"Y' need t' eat something. Now open." He brings the spoon to her mouth and waits patiently until she does as instructed. She only hesitates for a moment and even allows him to bring several more spoonfuls to her mouth before pushing it away.

"I don't want anymore."

"As you wish," he agrees gallantly and presses a kiss to her forehead. "'ey! Your fever's broken!" She smiles tiredly. "I love you. Get some more rest, love."

She pulls the covers up around her and murmurs, "Thank you, Bert. I love you."

0ooo0

"Dad? How's Mum doing?" Chris asks, looking really concerned. Elizabeth isn't quite old enough to understand exactly what is going on, just that her mother is sick, but Chris has some inkling.

"She's doin' just fine," he smiles. "She's on th' mend, I think."

"Dad, what's going on?"

"What d' you mean?"

Chris gives him a look that he inherited from his mother. "Mum never gets sick, Dad. Never. What's wrong?"

Bert sighs. He was hoping to not have this conversation. "Chris, you're getting old enough t' understand this. Let's go sit down."

Chris looks worried but follows his father into the living room. "Look, Chris, your mum… Well, y' know your mum's… special."

"With her magic."

"Right, which you got some of. But your mum… she 'ad _a lot _of magic an' that meant… she was different. An' her magic, it meant that she… well, Chris, y' remember 'ow a while ago, we 'ad t' go t' that funeral for your mum's friend? An' we talked about 'ow eventually everybody's got t' move on?"

"And go to heaven," Chris fills in.

"Exactly. Well, your mum, she was an exception t' that rule. An' that killed 'er. She'd 'ave t' go on forever without you or your sister an' she loves you both too much for that. So she 'ad t' give up a lot of that magic of 'ers, t' make it so she'd be like us."

"Mum's normal now?"

Bert laughs. "Well, _I _still think she's pretty extraordinary."

Chris rolls his eyes. "You're just saying that because you love her."

"I do," Bert agrees, then reaches over and ruffles his son's hair. "An' I love you an' your sister too." Chris rolls his eyes again. "More than you'll ever know 'til you 'ave your own kids."

"Gross, Dad."

He chuckles and pulls a struggling Chris into his arms. "Y'know this was a lot easier when you were little," he grumbles.

"He's eleven, Bert. He doesn't like to be hugged."

Bert and Chris both look up. "Mum!" Chris cries, jumping out of Bert's arms and running into his mother's. "You're alright!"

"Of course I am," Mary replies, smoothing his hair.

"Mummy?" Beth questions as she comes into the room. Her face lights up. "Mummy!"

Mary drops to the floor to hug her daughter too. She closes her eyes and breathes in, finally able to smell again.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Mummy," Elizabeth says.

"Thank you, darling." Mary looks up and sees Bert waiting patiently. "Children, why don't you go and play outside for a moment," she suggests. They automatically do as instructed and Mary straightens up.

"Feeling better?" he asks, slowly approaching her.

"Much, thank you." She smiles when he pulls her into his arms.

"Never do that t' me again," he orders seriously. "I 'aven't been so scared since Elizabeth was born."

"Well, I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best."

"So 'ow do you feel?" he wants to know, curious. She looks just as beautiful as always, but there is a certain weariness about her that is entirely new.

"Tired," she admits. "A little empty, if that's possible. It's odd, not having that much power at my disposal. Uncle Albert assured me that it does become easier, so I'm grateful for that."

"D'you regret it?" he inquires quietly. He's worried about her answer; if she does, there's no way to fix it.

"Not a bit," she answers with a bright smile and kisses him. "I get to grow old with the man I love. How on earth could I possibly regret that?"

"I love you, Mary Mine." His thumb caresses her cheek as he rests his forehead against hers and their noses brush. "An' I'm never goin' t' stop sayin' it."

"Oh good," she responds. "Because I shan't ever tire of hearing it. Now, we should probably go supervise those children of ours."

At the reminder of Chris and Beth, Bert has to grin. He really does consider the pair his greatest accomplishment and every time he thinks of them, he's reminded that Mary Poppins, the great, once seemingly untouchable, Mary Poppins is in love with him, that she's chosen to spend the rest of her life with him. Nothing could possibly make him happier.

0ooo0

Mary studies her face in the mirror, pursing her lips as she gazes critically at herself. It's been several years since she stopped touching up her appearance with magic, allowing herself to age naturally. At first, she had refused to let herself show signs of aging—her vanity was too strong to allow her youthful beauty to fade—but eventually had given in to the process. And while she is happy to have the chance to grow old with her husband, it's sometimes difficult to accept what comes with that. Her face is somehow softer now, not quite so flawless as it once was. She's even starting to develop lines around her eyes!

"What are you doin', love?" Bert asks, poking his head into the washroom.

She sighs. "I have wrinkles," she pouts, annoyed with herself for even caring about something so trivial.

"News t' me!" he exclaims. "Where?"

She glares at him.

"No, really!" he defends himself, stepping closer and peering at her face. "Where? All I see is th' beautiful woman I married."

She rolls her eyes at his cheesiness. "Here, Bert," she says, pointing at the lines that have appeared around her eyes. "And here."

He chuckles. "Mary, those are laugh lines!"

She heaves a giant sigh. "Call them what you may, I don't appreciate them!" Biting her lip, she thinks aloud, "I _could _just snap them away."

"Don't you dare!" he insists.

"I beg your pardon?"

Bert pulls her into his arms, fitting her snugly into his embrace. "Those are _my _laugh lines! Do what you want with th' rest of ya, but keep those."

She frowns, furrowing her brow. "What on earth do you mean by that?"

"They're mine," he shrugs, reaching up and gently tracing the offending lines, careful not to poke her in the eye. "They only go where smiles 'ave been. An' you've made me th' 'appiest I've ever been, so I like seein' that I've made you 'appy. I mean it, Mary. You're th' mother of my children an' the love of m' life. You'll always be th' most beautiful woman in th' world t' me no matter what you do, but I love those lines. They only serve t' make you even more beautiful than ever. Do what you want about everything else, if it'll make you 'appy, but just leave me those lines. Y' look stunning."

Smiling softly, she leans forward and catches his lips with hers. "Alright," she agrees with a sigh. "Your laugh lines can stay."

He grins. "Good. Now, come t' bed, love. Y'know I don't sleep as well if you're not next t' me."

"Thank you, Bert," she says quietly.

"For what, love?"

She gestures around. "For everything."

"No, no, no," he disagrees. "I should be thanking you."

"For what?" she laughs.

He copies her sweeping gesture. "For everything."

And with that, he tugs her off to bed, pulling his wife into his arms and kissing her soundly before settling in for the night. Mary rests her head on his chest and drifts off to sleep, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, secure in the knowledge that her children are safe in their room, her husband loves her, and that she has the rest of her life to look forward to. She's never felt happier.


End file.
